


remember

by morimaru



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Bad Writing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Out of Character, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9522956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morimaru/pseuds/morimaru
Summary: Everything feels odd. Something happened. He has to remember what happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I'm a terrible person. For some reason, I like to hurt my favourite characters.  
> First time posting here.  
> I'm not a native english speaker, so, unfortunately, my writing is quite lacking. My apologies if my writing hurts your eyes and brain. I'm really trying.
> 
> plot holes ahoy

He feels odd. Heavy. Swollen. Anticipation is hanging low over his head; something's going to happen, any moment now.  
Ah, but wait a minute. He's wrong. Something has already happened, hasn't it? Harry keeps talking in his ear, real loud. Screaming. Why is he screaming like that? Something must've happened. He has to remember what happened. It's really important that he remembers what happened.  
_it's not so bad as long as you can keep the fear from your mind_  
His face is pressed against the tiles. It's cold, it's really, really cold; he can barely feel his legs, but at the same time he can feel someone's fingers in his hair, digging into his scalp, tugging, pulling. He's got a nosebleed; his blood is the only thing that's warm in here. _Hey, what's going on here? What the hell are you doing?_  
Not now. Not that, anything but that, please. Not now.  
Harry's voice in his ears, suddenly so smooth and calm; he can feel it on the backs of his eyelids. Someone's hands on his hips, bony long fingers digging in. It's a sharp contrast in his memory. _C'mon, please, Coop. C'mon, I know you can do this. Look at me buddy, look at me._  
It hurts. It shouldn't hurt so much because he's disjointed, disconnected, he's not really here, but god help him it does. It hurts, it _hurts_ , he doesn't know what to do with all the pain that is pressing in inside of him, pulling and tearing at him. _I'm going to kill him. I swear to god I'll fucking kill him._  
_No, no, you can't do that._  
And then someone's voice, small and lost. _Why would someone do this?_ He thinks it might be Harry, but he's not sure.  
_hey, Harry. did something happen?_  
Now, for some reason, it sounds funny. He feels like laughing all of a sudden, he wants to smile, but his face is so bruised he doesn't think he _can_ smile. What happened? His face is bruised. Harry seems to be worried; why would Harry be worried about him? He's fine. He just needs to remember what happened. Why is his face bruised? _no, listen, you can't do this. get the fuck off of him!_  
_now, you be nice to me and I won't hurt you. shut up!_  
His throat is being crushed. The world's so small, closing in on him, he cannot breathe.  
He remembers Harry asking him if he's okay, but he can't remember if he ever answered.  
Hands. Hands, everywhere. He's in the restroom, in one of the stalls, his face is pressed harshly against the cold floor tiles, and he feels so dizzy after hitting his head on the wall it's actually making him nauseous. He can't hear anything. What's he doing in here? He shouldn't be in here; Harry's waiting for him, and if he's going to be late it's only polite to warn him about it.  
_Harry? hey, Harry. I'm sorry for being late._  
_oh, Coop, don't worry about that. why would you even..._  
And again: _why would someone_ do _this?_ It _is_ Harry. Harry sound weak, shaken. Did something happen? Yes, yes, now he's sure of it; something happened. It's really important, he has to remember what happened. _no, no, no, c'mon, we've been over this already. please, Coop, don't do this to me..._  
Someone pushed him inside one of the restroom stalls and then locked the door. The sound of the door locking echoes like thunder. It's so quiet. Hands, hands everywhere, grabbing and pushing. He doesn't have enough time to react; he wants to scream but then he's being pressed against the wall, fingers in his hair, and his head hits the white tiles, face first, one, two, three times. The pain makes his knees buckle, he slides down to the floor. His nose is bleeding really badly; the blood just won't stop, pooling in a red puddle on the floor, staining his clothes. He feels so dizzy it's actually making him nauseous. _Now, you be nice to me and I won't hurt you._ Everything's spinning. His head hurts too much to point out the logical fallacy; his tongue feels numb. It's very quiet like no one's around for miles like it's an endless forest full of douglas fir trees so quiet you can hear your own breathing quiet too quiet and no one will hear him even if he does scream in the end but he tries to speak anyway. _No. No, listen, you can't do this._ So cold, why is it so cold? Long, bony fingers - they touch him all over, his bloodied face, his neck, his trembling shoulders, his hands, his chest, his hips, his legs. He's shaking his head _no_ , but something in his body must be saying _yes_ because now the man's panting heavily, leaning over him, and he doesn't stop. Why won't he stop? _I told you to shut the fuck up_ , the man says, and he  
he's unzipping his pants and  
_don't you fucking move a muscle_  
no  
Something happened. Something happened, and now Harry's here and weren't they supposed to meet up in the diner? Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry, who sounds shocked all over again: every time he says it, it feels like the first time. _dear god, why would someone do this?_  
He can't remember why he's in pain but he's in pain, he's sure of it now. His trousers are sticky with blood; his face is a mess. What happened? Something happened. _Coop, no. no, no, lay down, don't move._  
The panting in his ears is really loud. Why? He can't breathe properly now, but he's not crying, his nose is full of blood and he's not crying, he's not crying. Heavy hands on his hips, bony long fingers digging in. His trousers are somewhere around his ankles, his cheek is pressed against the cold, bloody floor tiles, and blood is the only thing that is warm and _oh that's why I'm cold it's because I'm undressed and_  
no  
He's choking, his neck is being squeezed. The world's closing in on him, so small he cannot breathe.  
Harry's here, and he's asking if he's okay. He wants to answer this time around but a moment passes and he can't remember what was the question anymore. _c'_ _mon, please. please, don't do this to me. please, Cooper, please._  
He's being literally torn apart from the inside. Sure, he had read the reports, he worked the cases, but he never thought that it would hurt like this, he never thought it would happen to _him_ and the pain is so close and so much he can't deal with it - but then it swells up and spills over and overwhelms and overflows and then it stops because he finally blacks out.  
He wakes up to the feel of someone's fingers in his hair, digging into his scalp, tugging, pulling. The pain down below is sharp and stabbing. _I told you to shut the fuck up._ Suddenly, he starts to panic, he feels breathless and suffocated, _no, no you can't do this_ and those fingers on his neck tighten and he almost blacks out again.  
_stop it stop it stop it_  
For a moment, he thinks he might be dreaming; he knows that all he has to do now is just let go, just like Laura Palmer let it all go in the end, and he will be okay if he just closes his eyes. He thinks he dreams of leaving the restroom without an incident just like tens of hundreds of times before, and he's okay, he's alive and well and he remembers all he wants to remember and he's everything Harry needs him to be at once.  
_no no no hold on Cooper just hold on_  
What happened? Harry's asking him what happened. He has to remember what happened so that he could retell it to Harry. Is Harry angry? They were supposed to meet up in the diner and he must be really late right now so it's no wonder if Harry's angry  
What happened? He thinks he can remember what happened but he's not so sure he wants to remember anymore.  
Restroom. The tiny stall. The locked door. Hands, hands, hands, everywhere, pulling at his hair, digging in his hips, touching his face, lips, eyelids, legs. Wall is hard, blood is warm, the floor's cold. _I told you to shut the fuck up_ , that what the guy said. _shut the fuck up_. He's unzipping his pants as he says it.  
Move. He has to move, he has to get away before _something_ happens, that much is for sure, so he tries to pull himself up against the pounding in his skull, only for something heavy to slam in his side. He drops back down, hands weak, and hits his head once again and smears warm blood all over the floor.  
_The gun_ , he remembers, swallowing against the growing urge to vomit, _I have a gun_ , but when he moves to reach for the holster - and for a second his outstretched hand just awkwardly flops on the floor like a dead fish - the man steps on it, not on his fingers but right below his elbow. The pain is quick and sharp; something breaks, gives in under the weight of the boot - he breathes in, then breathes out and finally screams. But his scream is all too much like a whisper, and way too soon a hand clamps over his mouth, tightly; his face is wet and cold against the bloodied floor tiles, he's being torn apart, suffocated, so heavy, so cold, so quiet, and he can feel his very bones tremble. _If you fight I'll make it so much worse for you_  
_oh Coop oh no please just don't move don't move anymore_  
What next? What happened next? Something happened next. A heavy weight on top of him, pressing him into the floor, forcing him to stay in one place. Hands. Hands. His trousers are somewhere around his ankles. It hurts, it _hurts_ ; he doesn't know what to do with all the pain. Harry; Harry must be waiting for him. _Don't move, don't you fucking move a muscle._  
Harry's here, and he won't stop screaming; Harry's voice's stopping the pain. _What the hell is going on here? Get the fuck off of him! I said, get the fuck off of him or I'll shoot you! And don't you move, don't you fucking move a muscle!_ _Coop? Cooper, you've gotta tell me if you're okay. C'mon, answer. Cooper. You've gotta answer me. Please._  
and then a gunshot rings out, and he can hear someone running, stumbling, farther and farther away and _please, look at me, Coop. what happened? wait, no, uh, no, don't answer that. are you okay? please, please tell me that you're okay_ and after that _I'm going to kill him, I swear to god I'll find him and fucking kill him._  
Something happened, he thinks he _knows_ what happened, but it's not cold anymore, it's warm so it's not really all that important, what happened isn't important  
he's so warm now  
_no Coop no look at me look at me_  
He feels odd now. Heavy. Swollen. He's waiting for something; something's going to happen. But Harry's here, and Dale Cooper remembers what happened so he can now explain to Harry what happened so that he won't be angry with him anymore.  
Harry won't be angry  
_can I sleep now_

***  
(no, Coop, you can't)

**Author's Note:**

> so basically Cooper got jumped in the hotel restroom  
> and then all this bashing gave him a concussion  
> which is why he's really confused about what happened  
> and Harry sorta saved him when he decided to check out the hotel when Coop didn't show up at the diner in time
> 
> i'm sorry you've had to read (and suffer) through this mess but i really want to see how posting this will turn out


End file.
